


Safe

by jenfurlee (orphan_account)



Category: Orange is the New Black, Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 06:25:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14038134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jenfurlee
Summary: After finally being transferred to back to Australia to serve out the rest of her time with her head down, Stella Carlin finds herself in Wentworth's on H Block. Orange is the New Black/Wentworth crossover fic.





	1. Admissions

Late night admissions were always the worst. The promise of a shower and a meal were a restless night’s sleep away. Not to mention being the one to wake the sleeping inmates was never a good way to start off slipping quietly under the radar. Stella’s feet felt snug inside the white canvas shoes as she walked silently behind the guard, her eyes never once glanced up from the floor. She carried the laundry basket between her hand and her hip complete with the bare minimum she would need for survival; teal track pants were definitely a trade up for the ill-fitting tan jumpsuit she had grown accustomed too. That life seemed like a world away now after a hellacious plane ride spent handcuffed to the uncomfortable seat with guards taking a rotating shift watching her. Trying to sleep on a plane was bad enough, let alone while some creep is burning holes into your skin with his eyes. After nearly a year of fighting and she was back home in Melbourne. Good fucking riddance to Litchfield and Piper Chapman.  
  
“Home sweet home, Carlin,” the short blonde guard stated with a half smile, coming to a halt in front of the barred wing of cells. She scanned her badge and was quickly rewarded with the entrance beep. She swung the bars open with no regard for the cold loud sound they made screaming against their hinges. Blondie then made a grand sweeping motion for Stella to enter ahead of her. “You’re in this cell on the right. Doreen is our peer worker, she’s in that cell there,” she pointed to the cells respectively. “If you have any problems you talk to her, alright?” Stella nodded silently in response before she watched the bars slide closed trapping her in.  
  
She stood in the middle of the common area debating her actions. Option A, she could knock on the door of this peer person and disturb her to ask for something to break her 24-hour hunger pains. Option B, she could fight through it in her empty cell and wait until morning. Years of experience had taught her a few good punches to the gut would distract her brain long enough to manage to fall asleep, somehow the physical presence of pain was much more acceptable than those of hunger. The decision wasn’t too difficult to make, seeing as she didn’t want to cause any more of a disturbance than she already had. She veered right and opened the door the guard had dubbed ‘home sweet home’. She had to admit it was a quite a trade up from her last residence.  
  
Instead of being greeted with the promise of an empty cell, Stella was struck by the sight of a lean brunette hunched over with her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook with the effort of her silent sobs. The noise caused her to look up with her bloodshot eyes swollen, but still lined with anger. Like an idiot, Stella stood rooted to the ground unable to move an inch. She didn’t even make an attempt to look away from the sight before her. She was a beautiful, fierce girl, olive skin laced with ink in various places of her slender form.  
“I-I'm sorry, I thought-” she stuttered idiotically her eyes cast down to the floor.  
  
“Next one over,” the woman pointed before wiping her eyes and nose quickly.  
  
“I really am sorry,” Stella muttered again, retreating back out of the cell.  
  
“Fuck off,” was the last thing that the new inmate heard before she managed to close the cell door quietly.  
  
So much for slipping in under the radar, Carlin.


	2. Breakfast

Franky awoke early the next morning with her head already pounding behind her left eye. Determined not to let the discomfort phase her, she dressed herself in her flashiest neon colored bra and underwear, letting them show visibly from her teal tracks and white singlet. She painted her eyes in a thick layer of dark shadow, warning off any new predators. Then she tied her worn high tops on before exiting her cell and making her way towards the cafeteria, knowing that was where she could find one Linda Miles, also known as the eyes and ears of Wentworth Correctional Facility.  
  
“Morning, Smiles. I could have sworn I heard your docile tones late last night, or am I mistaken?”  
  
“Working a double shift, Doyle. Not that it’s any of your business. Now piss off and grab your brekkie,” The sharp blond snapped back.  
  
“Oh come on, Ms. Miles. I’m just trying to help. Seems like your bank balance could use it, but I guess I was mistaken.” Franky moved to leave with her hook and line left to bob in the water.  
  
“What do you want?”  
  
“Information. Who’s the new inmate?”  
  
“Stella Carlin. Transferred back home from the states.”  
  
“She a lifer?”  
  
“No, only got a few years left.”  
  
“And they moved her back? What was her charge?”  
  
“You’re friendly, why don’t you ask her yourself?” Linda nodded towards the doors as the tall brunette entered dressed in a loose pair of track pants and white long sleeves pushed to her elbows leaving two solid forearms of tattoos on display. Her hair was trimmed closely to the scalp on the sides, but the top was left long enough to fall into the woman’s angular face. “What are you waiting for, Doyle?” she dared.  
  
“Are you trying to get rid of me? I’m hurt, I quite like our chats.” Franky teased. She could feel the energy among the women shift as the newby entered the space. She at least kept her head low walking right past her and then proceeded towards the line.  
  
“That’s all you’re getting from me until I get the money.”  
  
“I’ll get it. Then I want to know what her charges are.” Franky smiled brightly with a wink.  
  
“Better get it while it’s warm.” Linda nodded in agreement before moving along towards one of the guards nearby. Franky continued on to the breakfast line to fetch herself some tea and a quick bite to eat before she was called for work duty. Franky’s eyes were drawn to the tattooed forearms in front of her as she grabbed toast and a few packages of jam. Everything on Stella’s form was covered in tattoos, save for her gorgeous fucking face.  
  
“Nice ink.” Franky muttered noticing the letters on her knuckles spelled out ‘just love’. She held back a chuckle at the irony. Stella did not look like she wanted to ‘just love’; She looked like she wanted to fucking fight. The new inmate nodded her appreciation at the comment before she reached the end of the line. Franky pushed by to settle in at her usual end spot front and center where all the action would be taking place. Stella, took a seat towards the back corner at a half full table with a few of the older inmates. They couldn’t really be bothered with any drama, so they left her alone in peace as she downed slice after slice of bread. Being a vegetarian in any type of prison establishment was damn near impossible, but she tried as much as she could. She ate quickly and silently, finally happy to end her hunger pains. She could have sworn she felt those watchful green eyes on her skin.  
  
“Well news sure does travel fast. She is a pretty little thing, isn’t she Boys?” a voice rasped pervertedly as she sat herself directly in front of Stella. Franky’s hand gripped the handle of her mug, willing herself not to react. A majority of the women in Wentworth weren’t actually that bad, save for Lucy Gambaro. She was a disgusting praying pig that had no respect from Franky. “What’s your name, gorgeous?” Lucy blew Stella a kiss before starting to shovel her breakfast down her throat.  
  
“Not interested,” the brunette responded quickly, taking a sip of her tea.  
  
“You hear that boys? She’s feisty.” Juice laughed as she reached out to cup Stella’s chin.  
“I like them with a little bit of bite, don’t you?” Before Franky had a chance to stand up and intervene, Stella did. As soon as Lucy lay her grimy palm on her, Stella’s free hand grabbed her fork and pressed it directly to Lucy’s fat neck against her jugular.  
  
“I said I’m not interested, so fuck off you bull dyke bitch,” Stella spat back at her face before shoving her back into her chair and exiting the cafeteria. The whole incident happened so quickly, the guards didn’t even have a chance to break it up. Linda went chasing after Carlin, and Will Jackson approached Gambaro.  
  
“Did you see that Mr. Jackson? She’s mental, that one! I reckon she needs to be slotted!” Lucy grabbed her throat dramatically playing up the extent of her injuries.  
  
“I think you’re lucky she didn’t have a knife, Gambaro. Breakfast is over ladies, get to work!” The man spoke dismissing the women to their work duties. Franky stood to dump her tray, but before making her way towards the bins, she retrieved the one left behind by Stella.  
  
“Better keep your girls in line, Doyle,” Juice threatened.  
  
“Better keep your filthy paws of my girls.”


	3. Shower

Day one at Wentworth was full of questions and forms as Stella tried to go by unnoticed. It proved almost impossible after her introduction to the prison’s predator. Thankfully she managed to escape with little damage and a warning from the small blonde guard. Stay away from Lucy Gambaro, she heeded clearly. It didn’t really take much guesswork to figure out why. Finally Stella had managed to slip away to wash away the fucking awful day in the shower block, which was leagues above Litchfield’s outdated and decrepit conditions. She managed to snag the stall nearest to the far wall only to discover that the water was even warm. Stella wasn’t entirely positive what the last warm shower she had was, but it was definitely not in Max. There she was lucky to get to shower every couple days as crowded as it was towards the end.  
  
She slipped her hair under the warm faucet attempting to escape from the reality of the situation. For a moment she truly forgot that she was stuck inside a women’s prison, and she was able to escape in her mind beyond the brick walls. A few short years and she’d be free.  
  
She should have recognized the silence that fell over the room, but instead she was sucked into the hypnotic effect that the calming shower was providing. She should have known not to shower in the evening, at least not for a few weeks until she gained a big more notoriety among the women. It really didn’t surprise her when she found her head forcefully shoved against the tile jolting her back to reality. Her entire body was pressed against the tile, making it difficult to pull in a full deep breath into her panicking lungs.  
  
“Please…” Stella managed to beg with tears stinging her closed eyes. Somehow she worked up enough courage to stare into the eyes of her abuser.  
  
Franky held a shiv at the new inmate’s throat, her wet singlet sticking to her muscular flesh.  
  
“Just do it”, Stella said with her teeth clenched, her palms held up in defeat. Her terrified eyes fluttered closed to await the cut from the shiv.  
  
But it never came. Instead Franky was able to see the fine detail of scars attempting to stay hidden within the ink of her tattoos. She lost all anger, and it had immediately been replaced with understanding. Stella was not an enemy.  
  
“Cross me, and I fucking will. Got it?” Franky tried to sound firm, but even she didn’t fully believe herself. Stella nodded once trying to keep the tears in her eyes at bay. Franky saw this and couldn’t help but soften her approach. “Finish up, I’ll keep an eye on the door, yeah?” Stella nodded once more, accepting the small offer. Franky exited the stall, snagging a spare towel from the bench and headed towards the door to keep watch for her as she showered in peace.


End file.
